


Thin Line

by heeroluva



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Coming of Age, Community: norsekink, Incest, M/M, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor and Loki have struggled all their lives with what they thought was a  damaged, perverse familial bond.  The truth comes out. Eventually.</p>
<p>Fill for <a href="http://norsekink.livejournal.com/8195.html?thread=17042947#t17042947">this</a> norsekink prompt.</p>
<p>Eventual Avengers spoilers (though not yet).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [](http://meteorfire.livejournal.com/profile)[**meteorfire**](http://meteorfire.livejournal.com/) for looking over this and putting up with me!. All mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know if you see any. As always feedback is appreciated.

Thor never laughed, never smiled. He was too solemn, too quiet everyone whispered. As the days turned into weeks and finally into months with no sign of Thor bonding with anyone, Frigga cried for him, her beautiful golden son. To live without a bond was a travesty, a tragedy of the worst degree. She’d never seen it herself, but she’d heard stories of those that lived a half life, as ghosts, shades of what they might have been, moving through life as but a shadow.

When the door to her rooms flew open and Odin stepped through with a strange fur-wrapped bundle in his arms, Frigga rose to her feet, shushing Thor who whined as he was jostled in her arms. “Odin—”

A happy giggle from her son caused Frigga to break off, and stare down at Thor in shock. His blue eyes were wide and alert as she’s never seen them before, his thin arms stretched out towards his father. But no, not his father, Frigga realized with a start, but the bundle that he was unwrapping, a bundle that held a babe, a jotun babe!

“Odin, what have you done?” Frigga questioned in horror, to steal a babe in the midst of war, but she could see it was already too late. Both parents watched as the essences of each child rose from their skin before reaching out toward each other, blue-black mixing with gold to form a deep green. Closing the distance between them, Frigga wasn’t fast enough to stop little Thor from reaching out towards the other babe, so strange in color, with odd markings, and solemn red eyes.

She watched in shock as the blue of his skin faded to pink from the spot where Thor’s hand touched him. The glow of green that surrounded them flared brightly before settling once again beneath their flesh, and red eyes changed to green. Two small pairs of hands reached towards each other and happy squeals filled the room.

“Who is this? What have you done?” Frigga repeated, both happy and heartbroken for this joining. “Surely you did not steal—”

“Wife, do not think so low of me. After the battle I returned to the temple and found him, small for what he is, weak, abandoned. Laufey’s son.”

“Laufey’s son!” Frigga gasped. “If he were to find out what you have done, he would stop at nothing—”

“The war is over and his Casket gone. He is trapped in Jotunheim, and will not find a way out. No one shall ever know of his origin. We will raise him as our own.”

Frigga’s eyes rose from the two small forms held between them. “You cannot mean to keep this from him. He has a right to know of his birth.”

“And what would you have me tell him, wife?” Odin’s unbandaged eye bored into hers. “Would you have me tell him that he is the monster we tells stories of to our children?”

“Do not treat me the fool, Odin. We don’t know what to expect from him, if he can adapt to our way. We didn’t even know the Frost Giants could bond! To keep him ignorant will cause nothing but harm.” Frigga shook her head in denial, recognizing the determined look Odin wore.

“My mind is made up. Wife, I present to you, Prince—”

“Odin, no!” Frigga exclaimed because already she saw the possibilities woven by the norns, the relationship that these two would have, and it was not—

But it was too late. “—Loki, our son.”

The world held its breath for a moment, before speeding up again, and all was changed, the possibilities different, some good, some bad, but all written with heartache. With a cry, Frigga pulled them both tight to her chest and turned her back on Odin, unable to bear to look at him. But already what she’d glimpsed was fading to nothing, until it didn’t even exist in memory. Drawing herself tall, she looked down at her two little princes. It mattered not that Loki was not of her blood; he would be hers in all the ways that mattered. All was finally right in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki _hated_ him. No, that was a lie, Loki wished he could hate him. Thor, the perfect son, the perfect warrior, so much better and stronger than sickly little Loki. How the people flocked to Thor, to his side, into his bed, drawn by his winning smile and charisma. Loki shouldn’t have cared, he knew he shouldn’t be jealous of the men and women Thor took to his bed, but ever since Thor had discovered sex, he’d spent less and less time with Loki. It wasn’t fair; Thor was _his_.

When they’d been younger, they’d been inseparable, always getting into trouble together. Thor was with him when Loki went through bouts of not being able to keep any food down to times when he could never get enough. It was Thor who stood by his side in the face of their father’s anger and disappointment when Loki showed a strong aptitude for magic instead of the warrior ways that drew Thor. Loki knew that his father held no hate for magic, using it himself, but in the line of Odinsons such a thing was supposed to be secondary to physical prowess.

Magic spoke to Loki, held the promise of things greater than the clash of steel against steel. There was a sophistication in it that Loki found to be lacking in blood sports. He didn’t fault his brother for his interest in such things, though he wished that he was not quite so reckless.

The first time Thor had almost died (a mere hunting accident), it had been as though Loki had turned to ice. Nothing touched him, nothing moved him as he sat by Thor’s bedside. Thor had been much too pale, too still, so different than the larger than life being that was his brother. His mother had been worried and Father strangely pensive, but it had mattered not to Loki at the time.

And after that they’d been closer than ever, for a little while. But slowly, bit by bit, Thor had pulled away from him. At first Loki had thought it some fault of his own, something he’d done to anger his brother. However, as time passed and Thor — who had never been good at concealing his emotions — revealed nothing, Loki couldn’t help but be hurt. Yet always Loki could feel Thor’s eyes on him, even when Thor was amidst the adoration of his throng of hopefuls.

Loki still remembered when the time came that his parents had proclaimed them too old to continue sharing a bed. Loki hadn’t understood, and having had recently discovered illusions, had for many moons after their parent's declaration snuck into his brother’s room. It might have kept on, if not for the night that Loki found Thor’s door locked with runes that he hadn’t known how to undo yet. Thinking it a fluke, Loki had returned the next night, and the next only to find the same. Following that, Loki didn’t speak to his brother for a week, not that Thor noticed, so entranced by his training, and the conviction that Sif could be a warrior.

Despite the fact that Thor was only nine months older than him, Loki was years slower to mature. And much to his shame, instead of attraction to the Lords and Ladies of the court, it was his brother, his bonded whom he desired. With Thor, Loki shared a familial bond, the bond of brothers, not of mates or lovers. 

Incest was not unheard of in their culture, but it was frowned upon between siblings and between parents and their children. Such relationships were never the result of primary bonds. To feel such a thing for his brother, to desire his brother was the worst type of taboo in Loki’s mind. There had always been whispers that there was something wrong with him, that he wasn’t quite right. And with this, Loki could almost believe the whispers true. 

Everything changed the day Thor kissed him then ran. But not before Loki saw the disgust and fear etched upon Thor’s face. The world tilted beneath him as all Loki’s fears were laid before him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VERY BRIEF UNINTENTIONAL UNDERAGE FROTTAGE.**

Thor loved his brother. Thor had always loved his brother. His earliest memory was of lying in bed beside Loki, watching his eyes get heavy as Mother read them a story of bravery and valor. For a time, the most prominent events of Thor’s life revolved around his brother. Loki had been a happy child, Thor knew it because he felt it. But there were times, instances where things were not so perfect.

Thor remembered the first time Loki fell ill, weak and so very pale. His stomach had rebelled at any food given to him, and Loki had burned so hot that Thor feared that flames would devour him from the inside out. The healers had been baffled because Asgardians did not get sick, and despite fear of a curse or dark magic afoot, no trace of either were found by the court sorcerers.

That had been the first time Thor had heard his parents fight, Mother screaming that Father knew where to find someone to fix this. Any reply that Odin might have had, had been lost behind the closing of a heavy door, and Thor had known true fear for the first time in his life.

The day Mother barred him from Loki’s room Thor had run to the secret spot deep within the garden that Loki thought Thor didn’t know about. Throwing himself down, Thor had cried as he felt Loki’s fear and confusion. Thor hadn’t truly understood what dying was yet at that age, but he just knew it was when someone went away forever. When an hour was a long time, forever was near incomprehensible, but Thor decided in his youthful wisdom that Loki was dying. Loki couldn’t die because Loki was his little brother, his to protect, his to love, his forever. And little Thor hated himself before there was nothing he could do, not dragons to slay like in the tales their mother told him.

At some point, Thor had fallen asleep, but when he awoke from a nudge at his shoulder, Thor thought he still must have been dreaming because the sky was dark and kneeling at his side was a pale Loki. Loki didn’t protest as Thor threw himself at him, hugging him far too tightly and wetting his clothes with tears and snot, as he sobbed that he thought Loki was dead.

When finally Thor’s tears had dried, Loki had pulled him to his feet, and still holding his hand, led them to his parent’s private rooms. When the doors opened, they’d both found themselves lifted, crushed between their frantic parents, and facing the obvious fear and anger of their parents, both children had began to cry. The following morning all was forgiven, and for a time all was right in the world (though little Loki had awoken with an appetite that rivaled Volstagg’s).

The first time Thor had fought with Loki, really fought, had been after a long day of training with the Warriors Three.

“Give it time, brother,” Thor had said to a panting and bruised Loki. Despite having started training with them nearly six months prior, Loki had barely mastered the basics, something which had taken Thor mere weeks to learn.

“Forgive me,” Loki spat, brushing his wet hair back from his face. “Not all of us can expect to be as perfect as the almighty Thor.” Turning, Loki began to stalk away, but Thor’s hand on his wrist stopped him in his tracks.

“Brother, do not be foolish. You know what is expected…” Thor trailed off with a sigh. He knew better than most how much Loki hated these sessions, dreaded them, but it was their duty.

“Remove your hand, brother, or you will not like the consequences.” Loki’s tone was light, but Thor knew that expression enough to worry.

It wasn’t enough to make Thor let go. “Loki, please. If you applied yourself to this as much as you do your sorcery—” Thor broke off as he felt Loki’s magic flare, saw the glimmering green snake materialize and wrap around his arm, its length twining up his arm before wrapping around his neck. The snake’s red eyes locked with Thor’s as its hood flared wide and mouth opened to reveal deceptively delicate looking fangs, its venom already forming at the tips. “Impressive illusion, brother. You have come far since last I saw your work.”

Loki let out a laugh, a rough, unamused sound. “But that is no illusion, brother.”

Thor took a second look, pushing at the snake with his own magic, and was shocked to find Loki’s words to be true. “This does not scare me, Loki.” The words were true. Thor could never fear his brother even now when Loki’s anger was almost tangible between them.

“Then you are a fool, and the only one that does not.”

Thor felt Loki’s pain like an old wound left to fester. “Who dares to disrespect you? I will—”

“You will do nothing,” Loki snapped. “Not everything can be solved with your fists. Even Father—” Loki broke off, and the snake dissolved as Loki tried to pull away.

“Father just wants what’s best for you. That’s all he’s ever wanted.”

“Then why do his eyes fill with such pity when they rest upon me? Why are there words of praise for your skill with the sword, and nothing but snide displeasure at my aptitude with magic? He gives me tutors, the best in the land, and I surpass them all. Yet it’s never enough. He forces this on me, wasting your time with my weakness.”

Thor’s hand tightened around his wrist. “Loki, you are far from—”

“Don’t. In the eyes of Father, that is all I’ll ever be. Have you ever seen a sorcerer with a warrior’s strength?”

“No, but—”

“Using magic as I do burns energy just as your training does. I could eat like Volstagg and still never near the strength you will someday have. It’s not possible. Father knows this, so why does he—”

“Brother…” Thor began, but didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t known, hadn’t realized. But it explained so much, why Loki was so snappish and always tired lately. Thor’s only skill in magic was sadly lacking; he couldn’t even make a convincing illusion of himself, let alone anything more complicated. But Thor had never thought less of his brother for his skill. “I will talk to Father. He’ll see—”

“No! You will do no such thing. I don’t need your help or you pity.”

“Loki—” But Thor was suddenly speaking to an empty room, his hand grasping air. It appeared Loki had mastered more than just summoning.

Despite Loki’s protests, Thor had gone to their father, tried to explain, and Thor had thought he’d understood. That was until Loki had appeared in his chambers, his face tear streaked and shaking with rage.

“I told you not to speak to him,” Loki hissed much like the snake he had summoned at their last meeting.

“Brother, I was just doing what was best for—”

“Do not think to lie to me. You didn’t do this for me. You’re no better than anyone else,” Loki said, his voice rising with each word, but his eyes were unfocused, his brow sweaty.

Grabbing Loki’s arms, Thor pulled him towards him. “Do you truly think so little of me, brother? I would sooner cut off my own arm than cause you harm.”

But Loki didn’t reply, his eyes rolling back in his head as his legs gave way beneath him. “Mother!” Thor shouted, cursing himself for not recognizing the symptoms sooner.

This bought of the sickness was a bad one, but like all the others it did not last. Loki never brought up their fight, never told him what Father said, and Thor could never make himself ask if only because he didn’t want to see Loki like that again. Loki smiled far too little these days, and Thor was loath to be the cause of its disappearance.

As time passed, Thor continued to excel in physical combat as Loki’s skills with magic grew. Despite Loki’s ever present protests, Thor continued dragging him to training. It was more habit than actual complaints as Loki had finally realized that he needed some physical skills to balance his magic. To rely completely on one was a folly, and Loki quickly learned the wisdom of being prepared for anything. Eventually Loki's body grew strong and lithe, but never he could never put on the bulk that Thor's frame held. 

Maybe Thor had been distracted by training, but instead of it being a gradual process, it seemed between one day and the next Thor developed an interest in the pleasures of the body. The Warriors Three seemed to realize his newfound curiosity right away, and decided it was their duty to find him a companion (or three as it had turned out) to guide him.

Loki who so very rarely missed anything those days had seemed blind to the change in Thor at first, but Thor brushed it off as part of Loki’s ever shifting moods. Despite their age and their parents having attempted to put a stop to it years prior, it was not so strange for Loki to still sneak into his room and share his bed (the nights that Loki deemed he needed sleep). While not a source of shame, the closeness had been something that Thor had taken more pleasure in than he felt was appropriate. It was in those hours that Loki stopped hiding, that he let himself relax, and Thor could still sense the remnants of the child in him, soon to be a thing of the past.

Everything changed the day Thor woke up wrapped around his brother, his hips grinding his erection against his little brother’s thigh. Thor pulled back so quickly that he fell out of the large bed, scrambling back in horror at his actions. At least he could take relief in the fact that Loki slept though the spectacle and would never know his shame. It was the hardest thing that Thor had ever done, barring Loki from his room that night. Loki’s pain had torn at him, but Thor had told himself it was for the best. It had to be. The next night, Thor almost gave in, but all it took was recalling that morning two days prior to harden his resolve. Loki would understand in time.

Thor did not see Loki for a week, throwing himself into Sif’s training, still not completely convinced that she could be a warrior, but willing to humor her for a time. A week later when Loki was dragged into practice looking pale and exhausted, Thor couldn’t help the stab of guilt that assaulted him. Loki would understand one day.

It wasn’t until two years later that Loki seemed to come into his maturity. The first time Thor had felt Loki’s lust, Thor had had to excuse himself quickly before he embarrassed himself completely. The following weeks were long and tortured as Thor found himself inundated by Loki’s lust, and Thor found himself wondering how Loki had dealt with this from his end when he was younger. Maybe it had been different and Loki hadn’t understood or been affected by it. Thor only brought it up once, politely offering to find him someone to slack his urges with. Loki hadn’t understood at first, but when he did, Thor had spent the following month wearing most of what he tried to drink as Loki had charmed his goblets.

It was not so uncommon for Thor to take pleasure in his hand the nights that he did not have or desire company. One such night as his fingers tugged at his hard flesh, it was not a nameless face that appeared before his eyes as he reached his peak, but that of his beloved brother, of Loki. The world had come tumbling down around him as he could no longer hide from his perversions that he would desire his brother in such a way, had desired him for some time. No amount of denial could undo the revelation. There was nothing for him to hide behind. How Loki could not discern the vileness of his thoughts, Thor did not know, but he was thankful for that small mercy.

For some time, they’d been growing apart. Where once they’d been inseparable and often sought each other out, now they rarely saw each other outside of meals and training. Despite that, Thor did his best to ignore Loki, and the ever present lust soon flared with pain. It was another reason for Thor to hate himself.

The day came that Loki’s sorrow had been so great that it pulled him from his training, his feet following the familiar path deep in the gardens to the spot that had become theirs. Thor hadn’t meant to, hadn’t thought about it, as he closed the distance between them, tilting Loki’s face up and capturing his mouth in a kiss. He hadn’t meant to do that, hadn’t meant to ever reveal this part of himself. 

That Loki kissed him back didn’t dissuade Thor, but the brief flash of happiness that he felt from Loki did. Thor pulled away, fear and disgust at his actions overcoming him. That he’d given in, and infected Loki with this desire was unforgiveable. The explosion of emotions he felt from Loki was almost welcomed. Better for Loki to hate him than to feel this way as well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part contains discussion of a miscarriage that is heavily implied to be infanticide.

Loki threw himself into the bed of the first person who showed him interest, and rarely denied any offer for company thereafter. He developed a reputation, his developing skill as a shapeshifter pleasing to many. They didn’t have to have _him_ , not him as he was, not really. Sometimes it was better that way because he could hide behind it, pretend for a little while that he was someone else, but other times Loki wished that someone wanted him. Not just his name, or his title, or his power.

So often Loki could feel the weight of Thor’s gaze on him, judging him, finding him lacking, unworthy. Loki did not need Thor’s contempt to know that there was something fundamentally wrong with himself. There had to be, or he would not continue to feel as he did, wanting his brother, when Thor had made it abundantly clear how he felt on the matter.

If Thor’s lovers found themselves unable to draw hot water or that their wardrobes had been infested with clothing moths, there was nothing that traced back to Loki. That didn’t stop the suspicious stares. Rumors abounded as Thor and Loki avoided each other, or as Loki avoided Thor as was more common. Once so inseparable, now to see them apart so often was strange for many. Even Mother fretted, but he would not share the source of his problems with her. He was not so cruel as to burden her with his failure.

Gradually the distance between them lessened, but things never went back to the way they had been. There was always a tension between them, a knowledge that they couldn’t forget. Loki loved Thor as much as he wished he could hate him. It was he himself that deserved his hate.

During their last hunting trip (Father had insisted Loki go), Thor had been so happy, happier than Loki had seen him in years, and Loki couldn’t help but comment on that. “You are in high spirits, brother.”

Thor rewarded him with a conspiratorial grin and suddenly it was as though they were children again, sharing secrets and getting into mischief. “The highest, brother. I’ve received happy news.”

Loki found himself smiling, Thor’s joy infectious. “Please share, brother. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Thor reached out, curling his arm around Loki’s shoulder pulling him close, closer than they’d been in years, and Loki found his heart racing.

“Salmei is with child!”

His smile freezing, Loki fought to keep his feelings from showing on his face. “I—congratulations, brother. That is indeed good news.” Lies all lies, but Loki was good at those these days, and the words came easily.

So distracted was he, that it wasn’t until after they’d returned to the palace that the gravity of the situation set in. For Thor to have a child out of wedlock threatened the succession of the throne, and Loki could not imagine Father suffering Thor’s bastards. It was one time he’d wished he’d been wrong.

When Thor showed up in his room that night, a place that Thor had rarely visited even when they were children, finding his books and magical items strange and distracting, Loki didn’t hesitate to let him in upon seeing the tear tracks on his face. Loki hadn’t seen Thor cry since they were children, and to see it now, made his gut ache. Thor pulled him into a tight hug for a moment before going to the fireplace and pushing a stone. Loki was shocked when a passageway opened, but didn’t question it as Thor pulled him through it. It was Thor who had shown Loki that there were places that even Heimdall could not see.

Finally they exited into a lavish bedroom, but Loki didn’t let himself slack his curiosity. Now was not the time. Thor let himself be guided towards the bed, sitting down when his legs hit the edge of it. After a moment’s indecision, Loki sat down beside him, not quite sure what to do. He hadn’t expected Thor to wrap himself around him, or the silent sobs.

“Salmei,” Thor said after an eternity. “She took ill suddenly; the baby was lost. She still struggles, yet the healers do not have much hope.”

“Why are you here with me, instead of at her side?” Loki asked. It’s not what he means to say, but he will not take the words back.

“You are my bonded and my brother.” Thor looked away. “And you are often right. Far more than I have ever cared to admit.” He paused for a moment. “This is Father’s doing. I know it. It is my fault; if I had not sought his counsel...”

Loki’s heart ached for his brother, but he knew that Thor was likely right. This was not how he would have had the lesson learned though. “Odin is our father, but first he is the Allfather, the King. Do not fight him over this. You have no proof. You will not win.”

“What then would you have me do? Pretend and forget what I feel must be true?” Thor rose angrily to his feet.

Following, Loki spun him around. “You do what you must! You survive, you move on. You take care where you spread your seed, and if you beget another child before you are married, you do everything you can to hide it from Father. Father may love us, and may prefer us happy, but he will not sacrifice what he believes is right for our contentment.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Thor replied in disbelief.

“You do what you must.”

Thor was suddenly in front of him, scant inches separating them, his hand cupping Loki’s cheek. “What did Father say to you that night after our fight when I sought him out against your wishes?”

Loki closed his eyes against the memory. “Do not ask that of me.”

“Loki,” Thor breathed. “Forgive me. Forgive me for this.”

Loki jumped, his eyes flying open as Thor’s lips brushed against his. Wrong, wrong, wrong, a mantra that would not leave him be, but Loki ignored it as best as he could, deepening the kiss. He’d wanted this, needed this. When Thor moaned against his mouth, pressing closer against him, the hot line of his erection pressing against his thigh, Loki suddenly pulled back. Thor couldn’t be seeing him, not really, it was Salmei that he wanted, Salmei that he desired. Loki couldn’t be that for his brother, couldn’t be a substitute for her.

It was Loki’s turn to run.


	5. Chapter 5

When Loki found himself summoned to see his mother, he didn’t find it strange. They’d once been so close, but once Loki’s feelings for Thor evolved past brotherly, Loki had pulled away, unable to bear her condemnation if she knew of his perversion and failure. He missed those times when he was young and could tell her anything, knowing that she wouldn’t judge him harshly. There were many instances that Loki had deserved punishment, but she’d hid him away from Father’s wrath, making excuses for his whereabouts.

“Take care that you do not go too far with your mischief, Loki,” Mother had said. “Odin will not always be so forgiving.”

Mother had been right, of course, the voice of wisdom and reason. Loki still remembered the pain.

It had always been Mother that took care of him when Loki had been ill, disappearing for a day before returning and dismissing the healers. Loki never knew what she fed him, but it cooled the fires that threatened to consume him, and in his delirium he swore that his skin turned blue. But Mother had just laughed and brushed aside his concern, and when he awoke to find nothing amiss, Loki never questioned it.

So when Loki entered her chambers and found a veritable feast of his favorite dishes, he couldn’t help but throw a suspicious look in her direction.

“Loki!” she said in greeting and rose to embrace him.

As she embraced him, Loki wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her curls, inhaling the scent of mountains after the rain that always seemed to surround her, and wondered when he’d gotten so much taller than her. She wasn’t a small woman.

“Sit, eat!” Mother said, tugging him towards the table. “It’s been much too long since we’ve caught up what with your travels. Surely you aren’t too old to tell your mother of your adventures.”

Loki shook his head. “No, of course not. I apologize for not visiting sooner, Mother. I’ve been distracted by—” Loki stopped himself. Mother’s presence had always loosened his tongue, and it appeared that that had not changed. A knot formed heavy in Loki’s stomach, and the thought of food was no longer appealing. “Mother, please. We both know that this isn’t why you’ve brought me here. “

Her hand rising to cup Loki’s cheek, she smiled sadly. “Oh, Loki. It’s silly to say, but it seems like only yesterday I held you in my arms as a babe. ‘Children grow so quickly,’ I was told. ‘Cherish it,’ other mothers told me. And I did. Had I the ability to keep you young and safe from the realities of our world, I would have done so. But as Prince you had to grow up faster than most. And despite my best efforts this world has not been kind to you.”

Loki’s throat tightened at her words. “Mother, no—“

Her thumb slid up to rest on his lips, shushing him. “For far too long I have remained silent as dreams keep you from sleep.”

Heart racing loud in his ears, Loki went pale at her worlds as his eyes widened in horror. If she’d seen, if she knew—

Seeing Loki’s fear, Mother hastened to ease it. “Loki, I swear that I have not trespassed where I was not invited. But your pain calls to me. Tell me what is haunting you so; let me relieve your suffering.”

Eyes closing, unable to meet her eyes, a tear slid down Loki’s cheek. “I thank you for your concern, but there are some things that even a mother cannot fix.” Loki couldn’t tell her of the ugliness inside of him.

“Loki, you are my son, and I love you. There is nothing you can do that will change that, nothing you can do that will make me think less of you. If you will not speak of it, share this meal with me, and tell me of your venture to Midgard. But know that I am always here for you.”

Loki could almost believe it, but he didn’t voice the words, the secret that he could never speak of. Instead, he grabbed a plate, and told her of the animals he’d encountered, delighting in her laughs as he did his best to imitate them.

It would be many years before Loki took her up on that offer.

It was a conversation that still haunted him weeks later as he stood beside his brother. This was supposed to a monumental event, reaching their maturity, their first golden apple, but Loki would have preferred to be anywhere else other than outside this door with Thor.

“Calm yourself, brother,” Thor said as he threw his arm around Loki’s shoulder. “Do not worry so. All will be well.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course. Because nothing could possibly go wrong with ingesting something that will alter our bodies and magic as it removes our inhibitions and strips us to our core in a test of self that we may or may not survive.”

Thor laughed, pulling him closer. “You worry too much.”

“And you worry too little.”

“I have faith in you, Loki.”

Something in the way Thor said his name made Loki’s stomach tighten in a way that had nothing to do with nerves, but Loki pushed such thoughts away. “And have you faith in yourself?”

The corners of Thor’s eyes crinkled as he smiled impossibly wider. “I trust that you have enough for both of us. Ready?”

Before Loki had a chance to ask Thor what he meant or say that _no_ , he was definitely not ready, Thor was already pushing the door open. Any comment that Loki might have had died on his lips as his eyes rested on the two golden apples sitting in the middle of the room. They were quite obviously apples and golden in color, but saying that as though they were _just_ was like saying Mjolnir was just a hammer.

With just a glance, Loki understood why they were so coveted, why they were so very dangerous. Loki could feel the tendrils of their magic reaching towards him, offering promises of forever, but the cost could be dire. A quick peek at Thor showed him equally entranced, his hands clasped tightly into fists, resisting the urge to reach for one. Forcing his eyes up past the apples, Loki finally looked at his parents standing proud and regal across from them. Mother’s mouth was twitching in such a way that Loki knew she wanted to smile widely, but wouldn’t break decorum, and Father’s eye was gleaming in a suspicious way.

“Thor, Loki, my sons, my heirs,” Odin declared, his voice filling the room.

Loki sank to his knees, knowing Thor did the same, and resolutely didn’t drop his eyes to the apples that were that much closer to him.

“Today you stand before your Mother and me on the brink of manhood. Both of you have proven yourself apt and able time and time again. This day brings with it one final test.” Odin motioned towards the apples.

Hesitantly Loki reached for one, his actions mirrored by his brother.

“Eat and be freed, or be found unworthy.” Odin turned and exited, Mother following a moment later.

Drawing an unsteady breath, Loki looked towards Thor.

Sensing his distress, Thor grasped his free hand with his own, squeezing tightly. “Have faith,” he said before bringing the apple to his mouth.

Loki raised his, and taking a bite, the world exploded away from him. The taste was an impossibility, the perfect mix of sweet, savory, sour, salty, and bitter mixed into something that was indescribable and _perfect_. And in the next instant, Loki was submerged in memories, important and insignificant. Flashes of the future, possibilities that might or might not happen, horrible things, wondrous things, the things of nightmares and fantasies followed.

The constant was Thor, always Thor. His brother, his lover, his enemy. With him always. Loki laughed and cried, screamed and raged at what he was shown. Then came the deaths, his own, Thor’s, his at the hand of Thor, Thor by Loki’s own blade, on and on and on until Loki begged for it to stop, to show him no more. He couldn’t bear it.

And as suddenly as it all started, it stopped. Loki found himself floating in darkness, a void. There was nothing, no stimuli, no way to hide from himself.

Loki screamed.

An eternity (or a second) later a beautiful figure appeared before him. “Who are you?” the being intoned, the voice made up of many.

“I am Loki Odinson, heir to the throne of Asgard and brother of Thor.” Loki flinched as his body rippled, his magic no longer under control, his shape changing again and again, cycling through all the faces he’d worn, all the forms he’d taken.

“Who are you, Loki Odinson, heir to the throne of Asgard and brother of Thor?” the being repeated before its shape also changed, flowing like water until Thor stood before him.

Loki didn’t understand. Who was he? What was he if not that? Magic-user? Sorcerer? But no. Those were just tools. Not who Loki was. Loki remembered his childhood, the good memories and the bad, the mischief that he had caused, the punishments when he was caught and claimed responsibility to protect Thor, the conspiratorial grins they’d share when they got away with it, and the instances where Thor, his mother, even the servants lied for him.

Thor shifted into his father, always so full of pity and pride; Mother, loving, kind, and wise; the Warriors Three, battle hardened and tested, always pushing; Sif, jealous and never enough, so like him; teachers and servants; everyone he’s ever met; everyone he might someday meet; until finally it was Thor that stood before him again.

Lies were easy. It was the truth that was hard.

“What is your desire?” Thor’s voice this time.

A different question. One that Loki knew the answer to, but a path that he would not allow himself to consider. Thor’s image shattered before him, broken pieces suspended in nothing before him. Loki felt himself slipping, drowning, the darkness threatening to consume him.

Thor, it was always Thor. Had always been Thor since as long as he could remember. Even when Loki wanted to hate him, it was Thor.

“I am Loki, God of Mischief and Lies,” Loki screamed, and Thor’s image resolidified before him.

“Loki, you are worthy,” the being’s voice boomed from all around him before Loki found himself back in his body, apple core in hand.

Thor’s hands were suddenly on Loki’s face, the real Thor, forcing his head up, to meet Thor’s wild eyes.

When Thor’s lips slanted across his own, Loki didn’t care, couldn’t care. He wanted this, had always wanted this since before he even realized what this was. This was one lie the Master of Lies could no longer hide from. Growling, Loki tried to deepen the kiss, but Thor kept it soft and slow, until finally it trailed off, and Loki dropped his head down onto Thor’s shoulder (thankfully free of that stupid armor).

They were still embracing when their father called first Thor and then Loki to share their names. Still lost in the effect of the apple, Loki did not notice the brief look that crossed his father’s face when Loki revealed his.

Later at the public announcement, any elation that Loki might have felt shattered when Father presented him as “Loki, God of Chaos and Deceit.”

The roar of applause in response was near equal to the one received when Thor was announced as God of Thunder (a lie), but Loki didn’t hear it, couldn’t hear anything beyond the rush of blood in his veins. It was semantics, but it mattered. Loki knew that none of his turmoil showed on his face, but he could feel Thor’s heavy gaze burning into him though Loki refused to look at him.

It wasn’t good form to sneak off as soon as he had, but Loki could not stand to be there one moment longer, to respond to that false name. The damage was done.

It was no shock, but unwelcomed when Thor appeared in Loki’s chamber hours later.

“Loki, brother, why did you leave so soon? What troubles you? This is a day for celebration. You were missed.”

“It _was_ a day for celebration, brother. Now the day has passed, and we must move on.” Loki tensed as Thor’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“When Father introduced you, you were angry. Why?”

Loki spun around. “Answer me this. Father named you God of Thunder. A lie. Yours or his?”

Flushing, Thor flinched back but didn’t hesitate to answer. “My own unto his.”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh though it wasn’t funny at all. Thor’s lie becomes truth, while Loki’s truth turns to lie. “Is your brother worthy of the truth?”

“No one is more worthy. I am the God of Storms.”

Unpredictable, wild, destructive, uncontrollable, and unstoppable. The perfect son was not so perfect after all. In this Thor had been smarter than himself, wise enough to not reveal that which Father would not like. 

As Thor offered his arm, Loki grasped his wrist in return. “Thank you, brother. You asked of my anger.” Loki paused a moment. “I am the God of Mischief and Lies.”

“But Father—” Thor began.

“Yes.”

“Why would he—”

Loki shrugged helplessly. “Why does he do anything?”

“You must—”

Loki closed the distance between this, interrupting Thor again, this time with a kiss, but Thor shied away.

“We can’t. This is a mistake.”

Not a lie.

“Get out,” Loki said, turning away. He couldn’t deal with this. Not now. 

“Loki—”

“Out!”

Loki didn’t look back as he heard the door open then close again. Like many days that should have been incredible, this was another best forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this part, but it is what it is and has some important bits. The next part will be Thor's POV. As always thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Thor's turn with the golden apple...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter contains a graphic nightmare/hallucination that has dark imagery including oc character deaths, violence, a lot of blood, and a miscarriage.**

With a bite of the golden apple, Thor found himself in a room of mirrors, spinning in circles as his image pointed and laughed.

“What is this trickery?” Thor shouted. He hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. Reaching for Mjolnir, he found it missing from his side.

Loki’s fear hit him like a physical blow and had him staggering as a voice shattered the silence, echoing around the room.

“Father,” a child’s voice sing-songed.

Thor turned towards a mirror that no longer showed his reflection but that of a blond haired child running from him.

“Wait!” Thor called moving towards it, hand outstretched, surprised as he went through the mirror instead of meeting a solid surface. A child’s giggle pulled him forward, Thor’s body moving without his command.

“Father! Catch me, Father!” the child shouted moving away.

Thor ran, but no matter how far or fast he ran, the distance between them increased. Salmei’s child, their child, the child they’d never seen. It had to be, and it made him ache. “Wait!”

But the child didn’t wait, the space between them stretching farther. And suddenly a shadow appeared between them, the child’s giggles replaced by a scream that cut off too soon. Between one step and the next the shadow was gone, and Thor was upon the child.

Falling to his knees beside the body, for that was all it was now, the blood attested to that, Thor raised trembling fingers to brush the hair back from the boy’s face. Green eyes, not Salmei’s eyes, but Loki’s eyes, stared unblinkingly up at him.

And suddenly those eyes focused, turning black, and Thor scrambled back, sliding in the still-growing pool of blood as the boy’s body jerkily rose to its feet.

“Father? Why didn’t you save me, father?”

The form shifted, growing, lengthening, until it was Salmei that stood before him. “Why didn’t you save me, Thor?”

Thor struggled to his feet, hand outstretched as before his eyes her belly grew, and then with a scream, she doubled over in pain. Thor trembled as he saw the blood that ran down her legs. Straightening, she threw herself at him, blood leaking from every orifice.

Then suddenly it was Loki in his arms, and Thor felt sick from the hatred he felt through the bond. The hatred that for so long Thor had wanted, thinking it would be better. But anything was better than this.

“Why, brother?” Loki asked, his hands rising to cup Thor’s face.

The bond flared bright between them in a way that Thor had only seen in his dreams, but just as quickly it paled and wilted, unraveling as it streaked with red and black, thinning and pulsing as though it was a wound, festering with infection.

“Why can’t you love me, brother?” Loki asked, face blank. Then suddenly Loki twisted, changing into a monster, claws raking at Thor’s face.

“No!” Thor shouted. “This is not real! Loki is not a monster!”

The world fell away for a moment before once again Thor was surrounded by mirrors, but this time they did not reflect him. Instead, he was ringed by everyone he loved, everyone he’d ever cared about.

“Thor Odinson.”

Thor jumped as each image spoke in unison.

“You are not worthy, brother,” Loki’s voice spoke from behind his back, a knife suddenly appearing at his throat.

Before he even had a chance to make a sound, Thor was choking on his own blood, hands rising to his throat in shock.

No, Loki would never. Not Loki, but this wasn’t real, not real, this couldn’t be real, he couldn’t feel Loki here. And suddenly Thor was panicking because he could always feel Loki.

A clap of thunder foretold the lightning that struck him, making him glow before it exploded out of him, the room of mirrors exploding outwards, shattering into nothing.

“I am Thor, future King of Asgard. Do not play games with me, or you will regret it.” Thor shouted into the darkness.

Laughter sprung up from all around him. “King, he says. We see no king before us. Mockery to the title you are. Lost little boy who doesn’t even know himself; lost little boy who always runs.”

“I am no coward. Show yourself, and we will see who runs.” 

More laughter, grating and mocking, and suddenly Thor is face to face with himself, but not himself as he was, but himself as a boy, small and weak and scared. Off on the horizon, Thor could see dark clouds: a storm was approaching, the kind that used to send him running to Mother or found him hiding under the bed. But no more. He finally knew what had to be done. Hand outstretched, Thor embraced his younger self’s hand with his own. But it was no longer himself, but Loki, growing before his eyes until he was the Loki as Thor knew him now.

Smiling, Loki nodded at him, and with Thor returning the smile, they walked on, facing the storm together as it should be. 

Thor felt a moment of uncertainty, unsure whether he could trust his eyes when he found himself back in the room where this had all started, his brother kneeling beside him, still lost in his trance. But the feel of the bond, whole and strong as it had always been assured him this was real. The apple core dropped unheeded from his hands, unimportant as Thor reached up and cupped Loki’s face. 

And minutes (hours?) later when Loki’s eyes finally focused on him, it was the most beautiful thing Thor had ever seen. Suddenly desperate, unable to stop himself, Thor closed the distance between him, capturing Loki’s mouth. It was stupid, incredibly so because anyone could have seen them, but Thor didn’t care. 

One last time, Thor told himself; this would be the final time, he promised. It had to be. And when Loki tried to deepen the kiss, Thor pulled back, lessened it because he knew it was for the best when he just wanted to give in and never stop. 

Later, when Father called for him, Thor hadn’t meant to lie, it slipping out before he even thought about it, but afterwards he couldn’t regret it. It was the choice he’d have made, had he through it through. 

Nothing could break through his high until Father revealed Loki’s name. The sudden jolt of shock and betrayal from Loki almost caused Thor to stagger, but years of training kept him standing still, his face blank although he couldn’t prevent himself from tracing over Loki’s tense shoulders with his gaze.

It was no shock when Loki escaped as soon as he was able, and while Thor wished that he could follow, he knew that while one absence could be overlooked, Father would not take kindly to both of them leaving early. And after the celebration wound down hours later, well past midnight, Thor took the hidden passage into Loki’s room, not sure if he was shocked or not to find that Loki had not warded it since Thor had shown it to him years ago.

A mistake, Thor called it when Loki tried to kiss him again. And Thor had meant it. They were good together, just not like that. Loki would understand; he always did.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter contains memory tampering, non-graphic caesarean birth, child abandonment, kidnapping, implied child death/miscarriage, implied rape, and non-graphic mpreg.**
> 
> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I know I said it would be out earlier this week, but life interrupted...

Loki's first child was not of his body or seed, but he was Loki’s in all the ways that mattered. Loki knew that his affection for children surprised many given that so often children were dirty and loud, both things he held no great fondness for. But in doing so they forgot who he was, God of Chaos, and children before they were shaped by the social mores of their elders were the embodiment of it.

When Loki was but a child, he remembered a time when he’d been alone on his father’s lap (a rarity to be without Thor at that age) as Odin had told him a story of a man who turned into a dragon and destroyed the world. Loki still remembered the words his father had said to him afterwards, his eye solemn as he’d locked Loki with his stare.

“Loki, learn this well. All are born with a monster inside, and they must take care to control it lest they let loose its fury.”

“Even you?” Loki had asked trembling in awe and fear.

“Yes, even me,” Father had replied.

Loki hadn’t slept for the next three nights as neither his mother’s singing nor Thor’s normally comforting presence had brought him solace. For many a moon, he had feared that at any moment a monster would burst out of his skin.

Weeks later, Thor had tried to cheer him up, dragging him out to one of the old burial grounds. They’d engaged in a game of hide and seek that had dissolved into wrestling and giggles as they’d rolled across the grass, when suddenly the ground beneath them had given way and they’d fallen into darkness. Summoning light, Loki had screamed, the light faltering as he realized what they’d fallen into: a room of draugar.

Thor, always so protective, had placed himself before his brother despite the fact that he had no weapon, and they stood no chance against these creatures. As the stench of rotting flesh filled Loki’s nostrils as the creatures moved forward, Loki had wrapped himself around Thor, burying his face in his neck, and Thor had done the same with him, finally giving in to his own fear because there was no hope.

One heart beat, then a second had followed before a strange sound filled the air, melodic and haunting, almost like singing, but not a sound that Asgardian vocal cords could produce. A minute passed, and then another before both boys raised their heads in confusion. They’d stopped, all but one who flowed forward towards them, hand outstretched.

Loki hadn’t had the words at the time, hadn’t know how to describe it. Only monster. The same type he feared had lived inside him. As the hand neared them, they’d both cringed away from it. Seeing this, her hand had dropped, for it clearly was a she, wearing what had once been a splendid gown before time had been unkind to it. She had sank to the ground before them, still taller than both and no less imposing.

It had been Thor that broke the heavy silence. “Is she trying to comfort us?”

The other creatures had shifted at his words, and Loki had slapped his hand over Thor’s mouth. And finally, gradually, when no attack came, they’d relaxed, sinking to the ground still wrapped around one another. What seemed like eons later when Mother had arrived, she’d bowed to the creature, shocking them both as Mother was Queen and bowed to no one.

And later, whisked away and finally safe in their chambers, it was Loki who asked about the monster, why it hadn’t harmed them like in the stories.

Mother had cupped his face, and Thor had leaned forward in anticipation of the question as well. “Not everything that is monstrous is evil, my sons. That draugr whom you met today was a queen of old, so old that even I do not know her name, but I recognized her for what she was. I know the tales that tell of a queen who died in childbirth, a mother to all. Even her present form cannot change what she was at her core.” She’d pulled them close, and had cried. “I feared for you because not all draugr are such as she.”

“Not all monsters are bad?” Loki had asked.

“No, not all monsters are bad, just as not all that are beautiful are good.”

The tension that Loki had unknowingly been carrying had suddenly disappeared with the words and he’d felt hope that maybe his monster wasn’t a bad one. He didn’t feel evil. It had been a childish thought, as he’d been a child at the time, and it wouldn’t be for many years still before Loki would understand that Odin hadn’t meant a literal monster.

Mother had petted their hair back. “I’d hoped that this was a lesson you would not have to learn so young, that I could keep you safe and innocent longer, but I knew this day would come.” Despite neither child being truly small any more, she rose with one on each hip. Any other day they might have protested the treatment, but not after the events of that day, not when their terror had still been so close, and mothers could make almost everything better.

The next day Mother had pulled them from their usual lessons and explained the dangers of their position, of people seeking their favor and telling untruths just because they had been born princes. They were to take care whom they trusted. Thor hadn’t truly seemed to understand yet, but Loki had, and took it to heart so much deeper than Thor ever could, so ready to believe the best of people.

Many years later, well after their maturity, when Thor appeared at the door to Loki’s quarters, an aura of pain surrounding him, almost tangible, Loki hadn’t hesitated to usher him in.

“What vexes thee, brother?” Loki had asked moving to sit down.

Thor’s hand shot out, grabbing his shoulders in a bruising grip, preventing the motion. “Loki, I’ve come to beg a favor. You are my only hope.”

“There is no need for begging, brother. Whatever you seek, ask, and I will do it.” And Loki would; he always did.

“Do not be so quick to agree. You may not find my request so agreeable. If you consent to this, I will be forever in your debt.” Thor dropped his hand and turned, looking towards the fireplace.

There were no lies in the words, not even exaggeration and Loki’s interest was piqued, wondering what possible trouble his brother could have gotten himself into. “Do not keep me in suspense.”

“Sigyn is with child. I ask that you claim paternity…”

Internally reeling at the news, Loki scoffed aloud. “No one would believe such a thing. The entire court knows that you are lovers. You should have taken better care. ”

Thor turned back towards him, eyes wild. “I did. Each time I ensured that the spell was in place. It must have failed. That is why I also beg you to create a draught of memory, inserting yourself into their memories in my place.”

It was risky, doing such a thing, and would require him to dose the castle’s water supply. He’d done so before in the past, when he’d been young and foolish, but Loki’s magic hadn’t been strong enough to fool Father. Now, maybe he had a chance, if just barely. Still it was a risk. “You know not what you are asking of me. If I do this, everyone will be affected, even you. You will not even know the child is your own. If something goes wrong, if we’re caught, none of us will be safe.”

Thor’s eyes shone with tears. “I know that,” he shouted. “You think I have not tried to find another possibility? You think that I would give up my child so lightly? There is no one else I would choose to be father of my child. I trust none as I trust you.” Thor sank to his knees before him, head bowed. “Please, Loki, brother. Whatever you wish I will do it.”

A million things flashed before Loki’s eyes, the things he wanted, the things he could ask, and he knew Thor would give him all of it if Loki gave the word. But no, not like this. Suddenly angry and disgusted with himself, Loki pulled Thor to his feet. “A king kneels for no one, not even his brother. Remember that. I said you need not beg, and I meant it. I will do this.”

Thor sagged before him in relief, and Loki felt a stab of pain as he realized that his brother really had expected him to deny him. When Thor reached for him to pull him into a hug, Loki shied away, ignoring the pain he saw flash across his brother’s face. It was for the best because for all his noble intentions, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if he was that close to Thor. The years of not acting on his feelings, of trying to squash them down, had made them harder to ignore, not less, but Loki was good at controlling his impulses.

After it was done, to have Sigyn’s affection was odd. And Loki felt no small amount of guilt over the situation even with his brother’s blessing. Every now and then, he would catch Thor’s gaze on them, a strange look on his face as though he was trying to remember something, but then it was gone just as quickly. But Loki knew he had nothing to worry from him. It was Father who he feared finding out, Father who he watched for any sign of suspicion. And as Sigyn’s pregnancy progressed, Loki’s worries lessened, knowing that with each passing day the chances of the spell failing decreased as memories faded with age.

Loki actually grew fond of Sigyn and even considered the possibility of marrying her. That changed the day she went into labor. It was not the first labor Loki had seen, and he’d known instantly that something was wrong. Her pain had been too great, and her stomach had moved ominously in a way it shouldn’t have. The healers had seen it as well and deemed natural birth wasn’t safe for either of them.

Minutes later when the healers gasped and pulled away, Sigyn had panicked, wanting to know what was wrong with her baby, but was unable to move as the spell held her in place, preventing damage. It was Loki who moved forward, reaching into her belly, and pulled the baby free. When the baby had entered Sigyn’s sight, she’d screamed at it, and refused to hold it.

Him. The baby was male, Loki realized as he used a clean cloth to wipe the fluids from his fur. It was no Asgardian babe he held within his arms, but a wolf cub. Loki understood the healers’ hesitation, and Sigyn’s horror. This was Thor’s son, no, this was his son now. And he would protect him. His form mattered not to Loki. The wolf cub suddenly cried, high pitched yips, and a bottle appeared in Loki’s hand, prepared in case Sigyn had been unable to suckle the babe.

Sucking on the nipple, fur suddenly rippled, fading away until a pink babe lay in the curl of his arms, happily drinking. Loki ran careful fingers over the fine black hair on his head, smiling as blue eyes blinked sleepily before falling shut. Feeling a heavy stare, he raised his eyes to meet Sigyn’s own, heavy with pain.

“That _thing_ is no child of mine,” she all but spat.

The reaction was unforgiveable. Loki’s smile was cutting. “When you’re healed, I will provide transportation to the bifrost.”

Sigyn gasped and paled as she said, “I have no need—”

“But you do.”

A few quick words to a servant, and they were off to ready his room for the babe now that he would no longer be staying with Sigyn.

Hours later, in his room, Loki stood by the crib that held his son. He still couldn’t believe it, had never imagined, never particularly thought of himself as a father. When the knock came at his door, Loki opened it with a flick of his hand, not looking up as he knew that only his family would interrupt him now. The first week was a time for family.

When Thor had appeared in Loki’s field of vision on the other side of the crib, he couldn’t help but smile.

“You have a beautiful son, brother,” Thor had said with a grin. “Have you decided on a name?”

“Fenrir.” The choice had been obvious.

“Fenrir Lokison. A wonderful name. May I?” he had asked, hands held out towards the babe.

“Of course,” Loki had agreed. His stomach had dropped when he saw the way that Fenrir’s form rippled, worried about Thor’s reaction to it.

But Thor’s motions never faltered, his grin just widening as he slipped a hand underneath the baby’s head, dwarfing his form, and another under his body, gently raising him up into his arms. “His magic is strong. He’ll be into no end of mischief, I’m sure. Just like his father,” Thor said with a twinkle in his eye.

Loki’s smile faltered slightly, but he found himself nodding his agreement. It made Loki’s heart break a little to see them together like this, knowing that Thor would never know the truth. When Thor gave him an odd look, Loki pushed the thoughts away, hating that his brother was always so perceptive about his feelings.

Thor hadn’t stayed long after that, saying that Loki needed to cherish these times with his son. Thor’s words would prove far too true. When the next knock at his door had revealed Father, Loki had hesitated to let him enter, a part of him knowing that something was wrong. Picking up Fenrir, he’d held him protectively, not liking the way that Odin was looking at him.

Loki knew why, as Fenrir was currently in his wolf form, sleeping soundly. Gasping at the strange sensation that seemed to tug at his heart, Loki’s eyes dropped from his father to Fenrir, frowning as he noted the strange purple-green glow rising from Fenrir. He’d raised his hand with a gasp as he realized he was also glowing. It was magic of a sort he realized, but not of his own doing. As suddenly as it began it faded, and he felt an odd sense of contentment from the bundle in his arms. A bond, he realized with a start, but different than with Thor.

Odin’s face was a mask of sorrow as he said, “I hope someday you will understand my actions this night, and be able to forgive me.”

Loki took a step back, shaking his head in confusion. “Father, what—”

The room was suddenly filled with guards, and Loki shuddered as he felt his magic draining away. He tried to fight them as Fenrir was pulled from his arms, Loki’s distress and his own, sending Fenrir crying. “What are you doing?” Loki shouted as he struggled in desperation. “Father, please, don’t take him. Father, what are you doing? Fenrir!” Loki screamed as the door closed and the wards went up, locking him in.

The secret passage didn’t cross Loki’s mind as he sat with his back against the door. Hours later when the passage opened, Loki didn’t look up as Thor entered. “Did you know?” he asked, voice flat. Raising his eyes to Thor’s, he asked again with barely concealed rage, “Did you know what Father had planned?”

“Loki, brother, had I known, I would not have hesitated to tell you,” Thor said, voice rough with sorrow. He reached down, forcing Loki to his feet, holding him as he fought against him, holding him as he raged, and finally holding him as Loki had broken in his arms, crying for the child whom Thor had given up and for the child whom Loki had failed to protect.

 

Loki’s second child, while not of his choosing, was born of his body, the product of war, and pain, and death. For years Loki had searched for Fenrir, his child’s emotions never far from his, the pain and fear and loneliness a constant gnawing in his chest. And finally, Loki had run from the world as even Thor’s pleas and presence couldn’t comfort him. Loki lost himself in wars, in battle, in blood, something the universe was never lacking. Sometimes, he won, and sometimes, he lost. 

It was one such loss that gifted him with his second child. Loki hadn’t known, not at first, hadn’t realized it was possible. It had been a hard pregnancy, hard on his body, hard on his mind as he feared that this babe would share a similar fate with her brother. And late in his pregnacy, Loki had woken one day, knowing something was wrong, that something was off. 

Even knowing it was too late, Loki had poured his magic into the tiny form, willing life in a way that was not meant to be, but unable to stop himself, unable to bear the loss. And when the time came, when Loki held her in his arms, perfect little Hel, with her too-pale skin and black-on-black eyes, he’d cried at his selfishness, knowing that Father would never allow it. 

An idea had come to him then, a wild, farfetched, risky idea. But Loki hadn’t hesitated as he’d taken Hel to that place he hadn’t thought of in so many years, to the burial grounds with the draugr queen. He hadn’t flinched at the smell, nor when the creature had moved towards him, attention clearly focused on the child in his arms. It was the only way, the only thing he could do to keep her safe, so when her arms stretched out, Loki only hesitated a moment, before putting her in in the queen’s hand, so big that Hel easily fit. 

There were no words, but as her other hand rose to cup Loki’s cheek wet with tears, he knew at least that Hel would never lack for care. When their forms shimmered and lost focus and finally faded from view, Loki collapsed as though his strings had been cut. 

When Thor found him two days later, they didn’t talk of it, but Loki knew he knew. There’d been an air of maturity about Thor that he hadn’t had the last time Loki had seen him, and Loki realized how much he’d missed him. They traveled together for a number of years, something they had not done in far too long. Each death was a gift for Hel, the only thing he could give her. With Thor by his side, they were unbeatable, and for the first time in far too long, Loki let himself live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know if you see any. As always feedback is appreciated, and thanks for reading!
> 
> ETA: I also wanted to add a note on Odin because he's getting a lot of hate. He is always a king before he is a father. That means the good of the kingdom comes first... Not saying that excuses his actions, but where he comes from is different from where a lot of people come from... When I do his POV chapter it will be clearer... (or so I hope!)


	8. Chapter 8

Thor would admit to feeling jealousy over Loki’s relationship with Sigyn, of his brother having the pleasure to watch her stomach grow with their child without fear of Odin stepping taking action against them. Thor could not begrudge his brother his happiness, these days the most Thor had seen him smile in far too long. But beneath that happiness there was a strange sense of sadness and guilt that Thor often felt was directed towards him, and Thor could not help but wonder if his brother still felt as he did, if Loki wished for that which they could not have. But no, Thor was a fool for thinking such things.

Gossip had flowed far too freely after the birth of Loki’s son, whispers of a wolf cub, of Sigyn’s rejection. Thor did not understand the reaction, such things not unheard of in the children of powerful sorcerers, especially those that were masters of shapeshifting. But he would see to it that those with lose tongues were punished, and that they not be so forgetful of where their loyalties lie. Despite Thor’s desire to see them right away, he’d held off, staving off his curiosity and excitement for a few hours at least.

Children were not Thor’s favorite thing, but this child, this Fenrir, was Loki’s, and Thor could not ignore such a thing. It broke his heart to see Loki’s fear in the face of his son’s magic as though Loki expected Thor to react badly, to reject him (both of them). Thor didn’t stay as long as he wished (he really didn’t want to ever leave), but he knew it was not his place, knew that it was selfish of him to wish to be there at his brother’s side to share this with him.

Hours later, Loki’s fear caused Thor to stumble, and he barely took note of the strange echo that followed it through the bond. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. Running to Loki’s quarters, Thor found his way barred by guards stationed there at his father’s orders. Stomach sinking as Loki’s grief pounded against him, Thor had feared the worst as he sought out their father. Father couldn’t possibly have done that. He wasn’t so unkind.

Thor was wrong.

The guards didn’t stop him, and Thor didn’t take the time to seek permission before entering Father’s quarters, slamming open the doors. It was an insult to enter uninvited, but Thor did not care. 

Father’s back was to Thor as he stood looking out the window that overlooked the kingdom. “You must think me cruel.”

“What have you done?” Thor questioned.

“I did what was necessary.”

Thor closed the distance between them, his hand raised to spin his father around, but Odin turned and grasped Thor’s wrist before he could, his face holding a warning. 

“Necessary for whom?” Thor demanded, knowing that his rudeness would not go unpunished, but unable to bring himself to care at the moment. “Certainly not for Loki. Is it not your duty to protect your children, your grandchildren?”

“It was necessary for the safety of our universe. You are so young still. I wish nothing more than to protect you, but such things are not always possible.” Odin’s hand rose to cup Thor’s face, but Thor backed away, shaking his head in disbelief. “It pains me more than you can imagine to have done this, but what was told cannot be allowed to pass.”

“You stole the babe from Loki because of a prophecy?” Thor asked in disbelief. “It was you who taught me that our fates are not written in stone, that the Norns can be wrong.”

Odin just shook his head with a sigh. “Someday you will understand when you face such difficult decisions yourself. There is more at risk than you could possibly imagine.”

“Loki will never forgive you for this.” The words were harsher than Thor meant them.

Odin’s face hardened, and something flashed across his eye. “And what of you?”

Thor turned and stormed out before he could say something that he could truly regret. Thor forced himself to calm down before seeking Loki out, knowing that his anger would not help either of them.

When Thor finally entered Loki’s chambers, that he thought that Thor could have known of it, could have kept such a thing from him, stung, but Thor in the wake of what had happened, Thor did not find the mistrust so out of place. Loki didn’t hesitate to enter his arms this time, his normal composure absent as he broke in Thor’s embrace. Burying his face in Loki’s hair to hide his own tears, Thor swore a silent oath that he would do anything to help Loki find Fenrir.

It wasn’t until later that Thor realized that Fenrir and Loki had bonded as well, that the strangely distant emotions he felt were not Loki’s, but the echo of Fenrir’s through the bond. Weeks turned into months, and Thor worried as Loki drove himself ragged searching for his son. Thor made excuses where he could, protecting Loki from Father’s suspicion.

The first time Loki left the realm without him, Thor passed out from the strain on the bond, still considered young in the scheme of things. Over time it grew easier to deal with, but Thor could never say it was truly comfortable. But he would never complain, never give Loki reason to feel guilt over this. There were some secrets worth keeping.

As the years passed, Thor felt Loki’s hope dwindling, and while he didn’t give up, his did lose his way. For decades Loki lost himself in war, falling into the chaos that was his namesake. Loki’s sudden joy after feeling nothing but pain and emptiness for so long was startling, and Thor wanted nothing more than to go to him and find out the source. But Odin and Thor’s duties kept him in Asgard. After Loki had begun his search Father had seen fit to immerse Thor in the politics of the kingdom, increasing his role in court in the hope that Thor would understand his decision.

Thor hated it.

Then a day came that was a repeat of that night when Fenrir was taken. Even as strained as the bond was, there was no mistaking it. And suddenly Loki had been back in Asgard, so very close, but Thor had been unable to find him.

It was Mother who told Thor where to find him, Mother who soothed his protests over Father’s reaction to Thor going missing from court, Mother whose eyes were bright with tears as she told him to go to him, that she’d take care of everything here for as long as was needed. Thor hadn’t hesitated, taking Loki away from that nightmarish place, washing the smell of death and decay from him.

Thor never asked what happened, never asked why Loki fought so hard. It was Loki who told him one night as they sat by the glow of the firestone, told him of Hel and what he’d done, that this was the only thing he could give her. Thor raged at the fates that night, his emotions bringing with them a massive tempest. Thor begged them to spare Loki, for please, no more. In his place, Thor offered himself, but the Norns remained silent.

Loki never hid from him after that night, never shied away from his touches, readily seeking out Thor’s embrace. They even spent most nights wrapped around each other like they had as children, though Thor’s thoughts were far from childish. Where Loki was concerned, Thor had gotten good at not acting on his impulses, but Loki always seemed to know.

This time when Loki kissed him, Thor didn’t hesitate to return it.


	9. Chapter 9

“What have you done?” Frigga demanded, crossing the distance between her and her husband, not caring that he had not bade her enter into his private chambers. Her anger was not diminished by the grief and sorrow she felt coming from him. If anything, they intensified it because the feelings were from his own making.

Odin didn’t turn as he addressed her. “I did what I must.”

Grabbing his arm, Frigga spun him around, his anger inconsequential in the face of her own. “He’s your son.”

“And I am King,” Odin shouted back. “I had no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” Frigga said, reminding him of his own words, how he scoffed in the face of anything the Norns threw at him. “To use my dreams in such a way, your actions will see them true.”

“‘Tis for the best. You will see, wife.”

Shrugging off the hand that Odin placed on her arm, Frigga backed away. “Do not ‘wife’ me. For too long I have stood silent when I should have spoken, remained motionless when I should have acted. No more. You will interfere no more.”

“You forget his origin.”

“Better to forget than to be blinded by it.”

Frigga turned and exited Odin’s quarters. It didn’t matter that she loved him, would always love him; there were some things he was blind to. The goodness in Loki was one of them. And to have done this, taken Loki’s child, her grandson, was nigh unforgivable. Odin had made his bed; now he had to lie in it. 

When Loki refused her counsel, it stung, but was not truly unexpected. The few times she saw him in the months that followed he stood proud and aloft, every bit the prince that he’d been raised as, but Frigga could feel the grief rolling off of him in near tangible waves. When Thor was in the same room as Loki, his eyes rarely left his brother; there was a sadness that weighed on him constantly. 

As Thor made excuses for Loki’s ever increasing absences, Odin pulled him deeper into the running of their court against Frigga’s wishes. It was more than a mother’s desire to keep her child young forever; Thor was not ready yet. It was one of the things that Frigga had long admired in Odin: his ability to separate himself as King when the need arose. It wasn’t quite so admirable when the separation was directed at his family. She was thankful that Thor didn’t have that, and her heart ached knowing that someday it could happen.   
As the days stretched into weeks and months and finally years that Loki remained gone from Asgard, his absence weighed heavily on Thor. Frigga did what she could, visiting Loki in his dreams and the nights she could sneak away after he fell into a restless slumber. Her songs brought him little comfort, but it was the least she could do. 

Frigga knew before Loki when he was with child, and wept for him, knowing the hardships he would face as the babe had already begun to slip away. Long time friends with Heimdall, Frigga bid him cast his gaze away from Loki, and he’d agreed though a direct request from Odin would not be ignored if asked of him. However, the point wasn’t to hide Loki, but rather to give him the privacy he deserved. Odin knew, but she ensured that he would do nothing this time. 

It was Thor’s reaction that told her what had come to pass, Thor who begged to be taken to him. And she’d denied him, one of the few times that she’d done so. The betrayal on his face cut through her, but she steeled herself, knowing it was not yet time. Loki had a choice to make, and needed to do it on his own. 

She wept again when she felt the little one pass, not able to imagine what the decision cost him. “Love him for me,” Frigga told Thor days later before whispering Loki’s whereabouts in his ear. 

For a moment Thor had stood confused before running off. It would be years before she saw either of her children again. 

For the first time in decades Odin sought her counsel without her invitation. “What have you done?” Odin demanded, a mirror to the beginning of their conversation from so many years prior. 

Frigga didn’t fail to notice it and replied the same, “I did what I must.” Drawing herself up, she added, “I did what you could not.”

“You would let them run wild, spilling destruction across the realms?”

“No, I would let them live their lives without interference and expectations. Surely you cannot be blind to damage that has been done to them?” 

“It is my duty—”

Frigga cut him off. “There are things outside of duty or have you forgotten that?”

Odin seemed at a loss, and with a start Frigga realized that maybe he really had, and wondered when that change had happened, how she hadn’t been able to prevent it. He wasn’t the only one who had been blind. “They are your children, and King you may be, but they will always see you as Father first. They’ve only ever sought your love and can’t separate the censure from their father from the criticism of a king. Loki especially.” 

“Loki is—”

“— your son,” Frigga finished for him. “That’s all that should matter. That’s all that’s ever mattered. He’s no longer the boy he once was, but your approval meant the world to him before...” Frigga trailed off, unable to say it. 

Odin’s eyes closed wearily, and he suddenly looked so very old. “Before I stole his son. I am not proud of what I did, but I still stand beside my decision. It was the right one.”

Reaching up to cup his cheek, Frigga’s chest tightened at the weight of exhaustion that suddenly hit her. “Someday I hope you’ll realize differently. For all our sakes. Before it’s too late.” 

“Is that—”

“There is no prophecy, not in this. Just intuition.”

“Frigga—” Odin began, but cut off just as quickly, his legs giving out beneath him.

Frigga followed him to the floor, calling for the guards. She should have seen it sooner, the symptoms of the Odinsleep. He’d gone far too long without, his exhaustion clear, yet he’d fought it for reasons she did not know. Briefly she considered calling Thor and Loki back home, but decided against it. Now was not the time. 

It lasted a week this time, the longest yet. And when he awoke, his words were the last thing she expected.

“I was wrong.” In the face of Frigga’s shock, Odin continued. “There is much that I regret. I had forgotten what it was to be a father.” He paused. “There are some wrongs I cannot make right, and some that cannot be undone, but I hope to prevent things from getting worse.”

“What did you see?” Frigga knew that this change was caused by no small feat, the emotions raging through him leaving her dizzy. 

“Many things. The beginning of the end, the end of the beginning. Deaths and births and transformations. Possibilities, so many of them. My actions have set us on a path towards destruction if I don’t right my wrongs. But it’s not too late. My pride and convictions are not worth it. You were right, I was blind. Blind to so many things. Loki’s children—” Odin broke off, face twisting with sorrow. “I hope someday you’ll be able to forgive my actions.”

Chest tight, Frigga leaned into him. “That you can admit this to me is a good place to begin, but it’s not my forgiveness that should be sought.” When Odin’s arms hesitantly rose to wrap around her, Frigga leaned into him, allowing the embrace for the first time in too long. She’d missed this, and knew that while nothing was fixed, this was a good start.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. The past month I've dealt with a cold, a power outage, an internet outage, increased work hours, and then the story floundered for a bit as my brain skipped way into the future of the fic without filling in the middle.
> 
> This chapter inadvertently turned into a crossover with the Dragon Age video game series, but no knowledge of the game is needed. 
> 
> **This chapter contains kidnapping, violence, implied torture, emotional manipulation, and threat of rape.**
> 
>  This chapter is also a bit different than my norm...

This wasn’t the first time that Loki had visited this world, this Thedas. They were a primitive people, all manners of species who had lost contact with their home worlds, but some of them held great magic. It was not so uncommon for people to fear what they did not understand, and the people of this world were no different as many of the magic users were locked away and feared, ripped away from their families and taught that their magic would bring great evil if the mages were left to their own devices.

With such treatment, it was no surprise that the mages would eventually grow tired of such treatment and revolt, the resulting war spreading across the countries. It was many years after the war had started the Loki found his way to the world. It was obvious what side Loki would choose. Many of the magic users feared him, calling him a maleficar, an abomination, when they thought Loki could not hear, but even so they grudgingly welcomed him, seeing the power that he held.

The Templars, the religious warriors controlled by the Chantry and trained to fight mages, draining their magic from them, quickly learned that Loki was not affected by their powers. Even their sheer numbers were no match for him. But like all worlds, the time came when Loki knew it he had to move on. This war was one with no end in sight, the battles doing little more than increasing the hatred, fanning the fires until they roared across the lands.

Loki had seen it before, knowing that they’d fight until they forgot why the struggle had begun, until there was no one alive who could remember the origin, until there was no one alive at all, or they finally reached a compromise. But Loki knew there could be no compromise in this; the fear and anger ran too deep.

Loki almost hadn’t recognized the barren world Thor and he had found themselves on, but there was still battle, so fight they did.

Loki reveled in it, the freedom with Thor by his side as they cut a bloody swath across the universe. Legend would speak of them, the unnamed warriors (it didn’t matter that Loki was a magic user) who appeared during battles and seemingly picked sides at random, glorying in the destruction they created.

Legends never spoke of the times they lost.

Loki didn’t see it until it was too late, the runes flaring in a blinding flash as Thor disappeared before Loki could even shout a warning. Dwarves weren’t known for their magic-casting skills, but they could weave it into materials, particularly metals, like no other race. Loki should have seen the trap, so obvious now what it was, but he’d been lost in the battle, the bloodlust, letting the chaos consume him.

And now Thor was taken. Mjolnir was all that was left; the magic that had taken Thor not nearly strong enough to take the hammer forged from the heart of a dying star. But the magic had been powerful, exceedingly so, excessively so, meant to trap someone or something of great power, someone not unlike Loki himself. And with a sinking feeling, Loki realized that the trap had been meant not for Thor, but himself.

The Templars had obviously done their research. Tt was simple yet ingenious: the more one fought the tighter they’d be bound. They had no way of knowing if Loki would come back, but they’d set it where they knew he’d be drawn, the promise of blood and battle that called to him. It was Thor who paid for Loki’s offenses. Thor would have no defense against a cage meant to hold Loki.

‘Demon,’ the Templars had called him; they would soon find that they knew nothing of demons.

Loki burned cold, his anger bringing an icy chill that left no room for anything except a welcoming numbness that kept the fear and grief and thoughts of what was being done to Thor away as he scoured the land for any hint of his brother’s whereabouts. 

None were safe from his wrath.

It was the Dalish elves who gave him the first clue: an old woman named Flemeth.

There was nothing remarkable about her at first glance; Loki did not hesitate to slam into her, his face twisted in a snarl as he opened his mouth to demand answers. Her laughter stopped him, cold and mocking, and without a hint of fear. Startled, Loki’s anger slipped, and he took a deeper look, finding a well of power and magic, strong and old, older even than this world, ancient in a way that he’d never experienced before.

Loki had no time to react, no time to defend himself as he soundly found himself frozen, pushed away from her and floating in the air. She’d never made a move, had done nothing, and he was powerless against her. Maybe he should have felt fear, but there was no room for it, his anger rising again as she continued laughing.

“So you’re the child who has been playing in my backyard. I must admit you are not at all what I’ve expected.”

Loki’s jaw muscles flexed as he attempted to talk, nothing but an annoyed hiss escaping his compressed lips.

The grin that spread across the woman’s face was full of teeth, her features distorted into something terrible. Her face transformed again, gold eyes almost glowing, her features settling into something that was ageless

Loki suddenly found himself free and hit the ground, dropped to a crouch, fingers digging into the dirt as he studied her before dropping his eyes, his brain calculating, wondering. “Forgive me for my impertinence. I had not realized this world was claimed by one such as yourself. I am merely seeking that which was taken from me. Once it has been returned, I will be on my way. I was told that you might have some information I seek.”

Flemeth, if that was even her name, laughed again. “My, what pretty words from a child with no manners. Much has changed in a short time if it is now commonplace to attack someone instead of simply asking. Tell me your name child, and I may grant you a question.”

A part of him raged at being called a child, but there was no place for that in this game. For it was a game, a dangerous one at that. “I am Loki Odinson, milady.”

She laughed again, grating at Loki’s nerves, but her eyes were shrewd and calculating. “Oh, I am far from a lady, Loki son of Odin.”

There was something strange in the way she said his name, almost mocking, as though she knew a secret that Loki did not.

“I am called Flemeth as you no doubt already know, having sought me out.”

It was no lie, but it was also not her name. It was a name she was called, but it was not her true name. No doubt it meant something to someone, but it held no value to him.

“Ask your question, and if I’m feeling charitable I might grant you an answer.”

Loki seethed, but knew he was in no position to bargain and considered his words carefully. “Something was taken from me, something important. I want it back. Where is my brother?”

That mocking smile was back, the one that said she knew so much and he knew so little. “You brother? The golden one with the pretty screams? ”

Loki’s fingers clawed at the dirt, his teeth grinding as his clenched his jaw shut to prevent the angry demand for answers that wanted to burst forth at the thought of what could cause Thor to scream.

“So it is him. It is a pity I did not find him first. The fun I could have had…”

Loki’s imagination easily supplied far too much, and he couldn’t help but shudder. And he suddenly knew, this was not a game he could win. This Flemeth held all the cards, and he had nothing. It was a startling revelation, and not a position Loki had ever found himself in before. He did not like it. Instinctively, his magic lashed out.

Unbelievably strong fingers were suddenly wrapped around Loki’s neck, hauling him to his feet and cutting off his air, his magic abruptly out of his reach in a way that he’d never experienced before. Terror welled in him as he clawed at the hand only to found himself shaken and thrown to the ground hard enough that the pain he felt made him pause, fearing the damage that had been done. Gasping, Loki laid there, taking stock of the pain, and decided that nothing was broken.

Flemeth was suddenly crouched over him, white hair floating despite the lack of wind, teeth far too sharp and fingers tipped with claws. The voice that exited her mouth was an angry rumble. “Once you strike at me, boy, but twice…” Her voice ended in a purr as her hand traveled the length of his body, claws catching on the fabric of his clothing before resting over his crotch. “I was going to be nice; I had such a simple request, but now I think an exchange is in order.” Her hand squeezed, claws prickling at sensitive flesh even through his clothing. “Your seed for Thor’s whereabouts.”

Loki fought the instinctive shudder, fought the desire to move at all. He didn’t miss the use of Thor’s name, and now knew that she’d likely known his as well. For all Loki knew, she could be the one who had Thor, but a part of him didn’t think so. She was a manipulator, letting others do the work for her. And Loki was nothing but her pawn. It was not a comfortable position, but too much time had passed with no other leads. This was a change he would have to take. Her request was simple, but a part of him had to ask, “Why?”

“Why? Why he asks?” Flemeth laughed, a dark sound. “Why does any woman want a man’s seed? I desire a child.”

“No!” The word was out of Loki’s mouth before he could stop himself. He could not do that again, could not give up another child not even for Thor.

“No?” Flemeth asked, clearly not having expected that answer.

“I will give you anything, but not that.” It was a dangerous thing that he offered, he knew that but he had no other choice.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

The smile that crossed Flemeth’s face told Loki that he’d been played. “I want your blood. All of it.”

“All—” Loki’s words were lost to the pained screams that were torn out of him as easily as the blood ran from his body.


End file.
